While tripping heavy on psychedelics the pressures of subconsious anxieties can pile themselves on my fragile ego, rending my psyche with the voracity of deamons. In these hellish bad trip scenarios reasoning goes circular, down and down into a wormhole of torturous introspective nightmares, a recounting of my sins as it typically devolves into. Sometimes I find myself palpating with panic, my breathing gets shallow and under the weight of it all, I yawn.
With this magnanious breath of air, somehow I feel restored, like a reminder that I'm still alive that I'm still here. The exhale of this yawn sometimes can vanquish the foes of my own mind. Like a reset button on my mood.
If however I can't escape some subconsious torment, if I can find something amusing to latch onto. I laugh
. I laugh manically
, psychotically
and the clarity of the universe comes washing down on me. If for but a brief second this can be enough to save me.
As a somewhat experienced psychonaut I have always sought catharsis in the most intense of dark trips. In fact I have purposely tried to induce a bad trip to try to pull myself out of it. Because if you can't confront your own demons, what business do you have playing with your own mind?
(Just a breif diatribe on two techniques that saves me from bad trips, simple things, but sometimes simple things are the easiest to forget under the tenacity of fear and that is just breathe and find the humor in everything)
Because after all, what are you afraid of? Death? We all die, and maybe just maybe we're reborn.
"Today a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we are the imagination of ourselves. Here’s Tom with the weather."